XXXIX
GLIMPSES
Annie Bouman had a healthy distaste for Janzoon Kolp. Janzoon Kolp, in his own rough way, adored Annie. Annie declared she could not "to save her life" say one civil word to that odious boy. Janzoon believed her to be the sweetest, sauciest creature in the world. Annie laughed among her playmates at the comical flapping of Janzoon's tattered and dingy jacket; he sighed in solitude over the floating grace of her jaunty blue petticoat. She thanked her stars that her brothers were not like the Kolps; and he growled at his sister because she was not like the Boumans. They seemed to exchange natures whenever they met. His presence made her harsh and unfeeling; and the very sight of her made him gentle as a lamb. Of course they were thrown together very often. It is thus that in some mysterious way we are convinced of error and cured of prejudice. In this case, however, the scheme failed. Annie detested Janzoon more and more at each encounter; and Janzoon liked her better and better every day.
"He killed a stork, the wicked old wretch!" she would say to herself.
"She knows I am strong and fearless," thought Janzoon.
"How red and freckled and ugly he is!" was Annie's secret comment when she looked at him.
"How she stares, and stares!" thought Janzoon. "Well, I am a fine, weather-beaten fellow, anyway."
"Janzoon Kolp, you impudent boy, go right away from me!" Annie often said. "I don't want any of your company."